Honey, I can’t take out the garbage, my back hurts.

So I have a short story to tell.

(For all of you that don’t know, this is Jason, the other contributor to this blog who never contributes. In fact the last time I did, everyone thought it was Elisabeth.)

It was December 26th, 2006. I was home (Youth Wise) for the holidays. Elisabeth and I had only recently gone out on our first date. I didn’t have the money to travel back to Georgia to be with family, so I spent the holiday season on my own. Don’t cry for me, I was fine. Anyway, I have a couple days of off work and spend most of the time on the phone with Elisabeth. She is in Coeur D’Alene at her mom’s. When I say most of the time, I mean “$230 cellphone bill” time. During my marathon calls, I found that our leather couch, given to us by Jen and Annette, is the most comfortable place. Well, that particular evening, or maybe it was an afternoon, my memory fails me, I notice that the very expensive slip cover covering the leather couch has slipped down in the front. Not thinking much of the 27 oz cover, I lean over to pull it back up and hear this incredible SNAP! Nothing happens immediately, but I know from experience that I am in for it.

The minutes tick by.

5 minutes – things feel warm

10 minutes – slight tension

13 minutes – things are definitely getting tight

22 minutes – oh, this is gonna hurt

30 minutes – “I CAN”T FEEL MY LEGS, SOMEONE CALL A DOCTOR!” (Just kidding about that last part, but we are talking serious pain.)

I gut it out that day, mostly because this has happened before and I figured I could wait it out. But by December 27th, I can’t take it. If you have never had back problems you will not understand, but for those few, those Band of Brothers, we will weep together. By the 27th, I am crawling to various places: bathroom, kitchen, the damned couch. It hurt so bad that I would laugh at myself. That laughter would them bring me to my knees, more laughter, then crying mixed with laughter. I ended up at the doctor, who gave me a few mild narcotics and prescribed PT.

Eventually the pain reduced to a manageable level, I stopped shelling out money for useless PT, and life went on, though never back to normal.

Fast forward 18 months…

I have tried two different types of “back crackers”, listened to innumerable pieces of advice (next up palates!), and finally succumbed to my wife’s pleas and went to see a real doctor. A$20 co-pay and 5 minutes and I am off to get the second MRI of my short life. $300 and 40 minutes lying really, really still and my innards are photographically dissected. Another $20, only 3 minutes, one prescription for a cortisone injection, my stomach drops, and I know the problem. I have a ruptured L5 disc. Lucky me!

Don’t believe me, here’s the proof.

My Ruptured Disc

Notice the black bulge pushing into the round white spot in the center of the picture? (And no that is not my butt you are looking at.)

Normal Disc

Here is what a normal disc looks like.

Well, I think that is all I have to say.


3 responses to “Honey, I can’t take out the garbage, my back hurts.

  1. You should be able to have outpatient surgery on it, right? Both Amy and Vanina had that done with ruptured discs and they were fine the next day.

  2. Sheri Blanchard

    Man that sucks. I remember when you threw it out the first time. Hope you can get it fixed.

  3. yikes! sounds painful! i do love that you included the pictures, that part was magnificent (not for you, i mean, for you it sucks).

    i prescribe swimming…

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